Lifetimes
by Madin456
Summary: Contrary to most twelve-year-old boys, Killua Zoldyck had never had a proper birthday. There was that one time, yes, when he didn't get whipped as much and that other time, of course, when the electrocutions weren't as painful, but nothing even close to a party. As a result, he hated birthdays. He hated birthdays, and yet, here he was, trying to find a present for his best friend.


Lifetimes

**Summary: **Contrary to most twelve-year-old boys, Killua Zoldyck had never had a proper birthday. There was that one time, yes, when he didn't get whipped as much and that other time, of course, when the electrocutions weren't as painful, but nothing even close to a _party_. So, it wasn't hard to believe that Killua hated birthdays. He hated birthdays, and yet, here he was, trying to find a present for his best friend.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hunter X Hunter.**

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Killua's Friday the 13th was July 7th.

It was bad luck.

It was dreadful.

It was painful.

It was... his birthday.

He hated birthdays. In a different world, a different universe, a different lifetime, he might have liked them—he might have even _enjoyed_ them; but in this world, this universe, this lifetime, he loathed them. Whoever celebrated such a thing was seriously stupid; it's like they were saying, "Yay! We're all one year closer to death!"

The typical birthday party of a twelve-year-old kid included a bunch of people gathering around a fire, sometimes holding hands, and chanting the same song over and over again every single time, as if they were trying to curse the person. Then, someone would blow out the flame that was right in the centre of the cake, causing darkness to descend upon them only to be interrupted by a flick of the light switch. And everyone would cheer because, figuratively, they had just turned off the last light in the world. As if that wasn't bad enough, they would repeat this ritual for many years.

However, a Zoldyck birthday was different—and much, much worse. What was there to celebrate when the only "special" thing you got was extra torture exercises because it was tradition to spend the entire day "becoming stronger to improve your skills" so that you wouldn't "bring down the family name and reputation"? What was there to celebrate when, after being whipped and electrocuted so many times that you want to go jump into a pool of hungry sharks just to kill yourself but then think otherwise because that would be showing weakness and weakness was looked down upon in your family?

What was there to celebrate when you were the heir of the infamous Zoldyck family, which meant nothing more than _training, training, training_? What was there to celebrate when one of your family members _wasn't even there_?

Nothing. There was absolutely and positively and utterly _nothing_ to celebrate.

And when there was nothing to celebrate, you tend to just _not_ celebrate. So while every other kid bragged for weeks and weeks, had parties and whacked piñatas with a baseball bat while blindfolded, Killua would be in his house doing normal daily activities and trying to forget about his birthday completely. The worst part? It almost never worked.

"_Kil~," Milluki would swing open his bedroom door and lean on the doorframe while grinning sadistically with a whip in one hand. "Happy birthday, __**little brother**__." _

The white-haired boy would groan, but just out of bed anyway, because getting it over with quickly was always better than getting Milluki worked up and mad since he would really have no mercy on him then.

As a result, Killua hated birthdays with every ounce of hatred in his body.

He hated birthdays with every dead skin cell under his fingernails and every fallen eyelash.

He hated birthdays almost as much as playing cards (Courtesy of Hisoka).

He hated birthdays, and yet, there it was; written in red ink on the calendar of the hotel room, hanging there silently and staring hauntingly at him during the night when he slept for the past week as if it knew about all the stress that Killua has been through. As if it was there _just_ to annoy the hell out of him as if he wasn't annoyed _enough_ already.

Gon's—

...

"—birthday."

At the sound of his best friend's voice, the black-haired boy sat up on his bed. "Sorry, what was that, Killua?"

Killua tensed up. The ex-assassin's palms were sweating like crazy and his eyes darted around the room, looking every but the person he was addressing. How could he say this? How did one ask about something as horrid as a _birthday_? "I—what—you—" He stopped. The always cool Killua, stuttering? _Impossible._

Taking a deep breath, he decided to start again. "The day after tomorrow. Your birthday. What do you want?" His sentences—if you could call them that—came out choppy, and somewhat demanding, but at least he didn't stutter this time. Improvement was improvement.

"You remembered?" Gon's eyes lit up. "You don't have to give me anything, Killua. Just being with you is enough for me!"

_Ugh, there he goes again with those cheesy lines_. The white-haired boy looked away to hide a blush that threatened to creep on his cheeks. "I—I want to get you something." _And ugh, I'm becoming just as cheesy as Gon..._

The other boy smiled. "I'm sure that anything Killua gets would be great! Just get me anything you'd get for yourself."

_... Easy for you to say._

Killua deadpanned.

Birthdays were not a simple matter.

...

It was pathetic, Killua admitted.

After going on several assassination missions, training with his brothers, killing without a second thought, and even running away from home, he had never been extremely nervous. But now, right before he was going to give Gon his birthday present? He was shaking uncontrollably to the point where he thought he just might go up in flames and melt into nothingness.

Maybe he should've gone with a normal cake—Gon seemed to like sweets a lot, after all. Maybe he could quickly leave and buy something else, in case Gon didn't like what he got him. Maybe it wasn't too late to—

"Killua?"

—Scratch that. It _was_ too late.

"Y-yeah," He replied as Gon came into view. "In here."

"You wanted to show me my present?"

Killua watched as the boy walked over to him, smiling so calmly that it was making him even more nervous. _Gon's calmness was making me more nervous? I'm so full of contradictions today... _

"You said that anything that I'd get for myself would be okay, right?" Killua gave a forced lopsided grin that probably made him look like a monster.

"Of course!"

Hearing the confidence and reassurance in Gon's voice made him a little braver and before he could chicken out, Killua led the two of them to their hotel room. Slowly, taking a deep breath, he reached out a hand and turned the doorknob, watching as the door creaked loudly, revealing...

... revealing...

... revealing...

... a giant pile of paper.

Gon walked up to it and examined the object from different angles. "Uhh... what is it?"

"Chocolate wrappers."

"Chocolate... _wrappers_?"

Killua nodded.

"... What happened to the, you know, _chocolate_?"

There was a pause before Killua answered.

"I ate them."

In his past world, past universe, past lifetime, Killua would've hated birthdays. But this was a new world, a new universe, a new lifetime—and this time around, he couldn't help but laugh along with Gon as they spent the rest of the day together, celebrating a birthday like how they should be, and just enjoying each other's company.

And, later on in the day, Killua realized that Friday the 13th was no longer July 7th for him.

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**I would like to gratefully thank ****Riseha ****for reading this over. You all should go check out her stories too! **

**Anyway, would you guys be willing to read a multi-chapter HXH fanfic I've started writing? It's KilluaxOC. Leave a review and let me know! :D **

**~Madin456.**


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